TRANSIT OF SEASONS, A POEM OF LOVERS I HAVE NEVER KNOWN

Transit Of Seasons
A Poem Of Lovers I have Never Known

Every autumn leaf speaks,
In its faded beauty
And spent life
How
Love disappoints,
Like a rocket that failed at launch
Never to see the stars-
I mourn those worlds
Undiscovered.
I sought them in ancient maps
Longing for a clue
But could never find
The cure
For why I can go on
Without seeing you
But not a moment
Without thinking of your
Ghost.
Now my autumn leaves
Cover the ground like
A death shroud of summer
That whispers, "Shish,
Shish, Shish,"
As I walk through them
On my way to spring.



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(c) Adron  5/29/17

THE WATERS, A POEM ABOUT NOT GOD

This poem is about the search for God, and the failure to find Him through our own lack of humility.

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The Waters,

A Poem About Not God

Like water that flows
Filling pools and lakes
We would fill up our lives
To all our edges
Until our towers touched clouds.
But He Who Commands Seas
Cursed our pride
And our weak towers fall,
Leaving us with
Nothing that will impress;
And we remain purposeless,
And meaningless
At best,
Or bitter and resentful.
Our search to fulfill
Is
Like reading books
In another language.
We cannot succeed
On our own,
And will fail to satisfy.
And we become
Like leaves that float
On the waters
Which slowly
Drift to the sea.

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(c) A.E. Dozat 5/14/17

TRAVEL GUIDE, A POEM ABOUT THE NEED TO BE KNOWN

This is a love poem, that is clear, but it also points to needs that are as strong as the need for love. 

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Travel Guide,
A Poem About The Need To Be Known

I wish I could tell you all my worlds;
Many are in the place called tomorrow
And await the sunrise to give them life,
But others have been ravaged by cruelty
Where war, disease, and famine left them dry.
I would show you to where my heart is buried-
That lonely place where the love in me died.
I would watch to see my lands in your eyes
For through you I would find understanding,
But I can't ask you to cross these lands
I would not force on you such a burden.
Yet, if ever one were to know my worlds
I would grant a passport only to you.

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(c) Adron 5/7/17

MAY YOU LIVE BEYOND ME, A POEM OF COJOINED FREEDOMS

May You Live Beyond Me
A Poem Of Co-joined Freedoms

I fear not your freedom
If I may see you fly
To where the clouds are home.
If your dreams could take wing
May they take you ever
To places of beauty
And love.
Yet,
Not all freedom is wise,
But where it is good I wish
I could give you the wings
That lift you on its winds.
I shall regret not
The pain your freedom gives-
Because your dreams are mine.
So, go, answer your call
And follow the sun.
I shall always treasure
Seeing you rise in flight
As you forever go.


(c) Adron Dozat

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(c) A.E. Dozat 4/11/17

THE OLD HAT, A POEM ABOUT REDISCOVERY

I hope you enjoy this poem of personal reflection and its self-effacing humor.

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The Old Hat,
A Poem About Rediscovery

Whatever happened
To that hat
So long ago?
It sure looked good
In the mirror.
It gave shade to my eyes,
Though not enough
To be useful.
It went missing years ago
In one of my sojourns;
When I was another me.
If I wore it today
It would be
Old and beaten-

The Old Hat, A Poem About Rediscovery

Just like me.
I was so proud of it
Today it might be in some
Second-hand store.
Maybe
The money
Could have been better used.
I wonder what happened
To that old hat
But
What I really I wish
Is to have back
The fifty bucks
That I paid for it.

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(c) Adron 3/11/17

OH, MY CHILD, A POEM FOR MY SON

Oh My Child,
A Poem For My Son, Joe

Oh, my child may it be not you
That I find here
Lost in the shadows of my footsteps.
How is it that
You became a stranger to me
When I was once was all you knew?
I heard all the usual warnings
But somehow I failed anyway.
What things will life bring to you, my son?
I ask each day
As I have daily for all the years-
It was a thought I had on the day
That you were born,
And shall wonder till the day I die.
I have asked it in the dark corners
Of the guilt that comes with parenthood;
Yet no light nor wind has brought back word
To give comfort.
I let you down
Hundreds of times, or thousands or more-
But you
Have never failed to make me proud.

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(c) A.E.Dozat 3/6/17

THE BROKEN LINE, A POEM OF A FALLEN FLYER

The Broken Line
A Poem Of a One Time Flyer

The wind blows with a scent of the sea
And carries the songs of the mountains.
Our dreams must not yield to the earth's pull
But like a kite against the white line
They ascend on such unseen powers.
Forget not that dreams need their tether
It's the very tension that gives lift,
And when we let go the line they drift;
To be assaulted by screaming crows,
And pulled down to the terminal ground
Where they are eaten by field mice.
Perhaps some cold day we will stumble
Across the tattered, rotting remains
Of a dream, that we once sought to float
Upon some lost unseen summer wind-
It is now only a broken thing.
Have a care that you do not blindly
Step past its remains in your pursuit
Of a stagnant and dutiful life-
No, stop and kneel down in the mud
To remember the sight of a dream
That was once embraced by the blue sky.

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(c) A. E. Dozat 3/2/17

DIRTY HANDS, A POEM ABOUT LIVING FAITH

Dirty Hands

A Poem About Living Faith

May we have that Faith
That lives with tigers,
A faith of hammer
And nails,
And that can pull us
Out of bed early
And then out the door
With lunches for the
Homeless.
May we have a faith
That causes us to
Walk beside our God
Unashamed
As He touches the
Leprous
With healing,
The prostitute
With forgiveness,
The broken ones
With compassion,
And the rebel
With acceptance.
May we have a faith
That is good for
This world.



"Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained from the world." James 1:27

(c) A.E. Dozat 1/31/17

THE IMAGE, A POEM ABOUT REPAIRING THE MIRROR

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The Image,
A Poem About Repairing The Mirror.

Like music
That carries the heart
We are designed
To echo
His love.
It is the place
Where
We were meant to live.
As light dances
On waters
With flashes
Of white brilliance
So we should
Reflect God-
Even if our mirrors
Are flawed
We must still
Reveal the image
Given to us.
Then others will see
That
As we gaze
At His light
Our own flaws
Will be mended.

(c) Adron Dozat

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(c) Adron 1/14/17

IT IS NOT AN EASY SOLUTION, A POEM ABOUT SACRIFICIAL GRACE

It Is Not An Easy Solution
A Poem About Sacrificial Grace

God is not cheap
If He forgave all sin
And let everybody
Into heaven
Without
Their sin cleansed
Then He would share in their sin
(Our lawyers call it
Guilt by association).
Then sin would infect
Heaven.
If God did this
He would not be holy,
And Himself a sinner,
He would have to forgive
The fallen angels
Who chose to be devils.
Then heaven would not
Be Paradise at all
But it would be like hell.
So, God must punish sin
But, he made a way
Of righteous forgiveness
For all humanity;
Christ himself took our
Sin's punishment
And endured our hell
Now God offers pardon
(And is still righteous)
To those who are willing
To receive it freely.


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(c) Adron 1/3/17

A POEM OF PROMISE

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A Poem of Promise


Wait for God
For He keeps his promise
And will not forget.
He knows that
It's hard for us to wait
When we are in pain,
And alone, and lost
In the darkness of grief.
God's promises are full of life
He has a purpose
And has proven
He will keep his promises.
God has begun
A marvelous work in you
And He will not give up
Until it is done.
He is patient even as we rebel
We must be faithful and wait
God had not forgotten
Wait for God.

(c) Adron Dozat

"...Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will show to you to-day...:" Exodus 14:13.

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(c) A. E. Dozat 12/23/16

BEYOND THE HIDDEN, A POEM ABOUT THE GREATER REALITY

Beyond The Hidden
A Poem About The Greater Reality

I draw my fingers
Through your hair
Without touching you.
I stroke your cheek
But do not feel you.
I caress your shoulder
And still not touch you.
I place my hand
At the small of your back
Yet am not near.
I look with my eyes
But see you not.
For the real you
Is veiled in a heart
As a treasure concealed
In the reliquary
Of your soul.
It is too sacred for any hand
Forever beyond touch.
And the truth of you
Is far more wonderful
Than flesh and bone
Could ever be.



This could be a love poem or a poem about race or about understanding and appreciating people for what they are and not what they seem. It could be a poem about prejudging a person unfairly based on what we see on the outside. I hope this poem gives my readers something to think about.
Please see the sidebar for my best-loved poems, I am sure you will enjoy them too.

Thank you for visiting and reading my poem. I hope you enjoyed it and that it blessed your day. 

(c) Adron 12/9/16

DEER, A POEM ABOUT SOCIAL FAILURE

This is a fun poem and it makes you laugh at first, but I hope it also makes you think, then ask questions of yourself and ultimately act.

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Deer,
A Poem About Social Failure

A deer
Wandered out of the woods
And into the yard
She walked up the street
And waited
On the corner
With the kids
For the school bus.
But
The driver would not let her on
Because she was not
Registered
In that school district.
So,
Without an education
She remained homeless
And lived on handouts.



()c) Adron Dozat

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Authors musings:
This poem is a little absurd on the surface but what if you were to think about it for a bit and consider the metaphor of the dear then questions arise. Is she a generation? a class in our society? or a community in our nation?

What is the metaphor of the school bus driver? or the kids waiting for the bus?

Are we guilty of assuming that some cannot improve their lives and are forever confined to a certain level of well-being or lack thereof?

Are our actions perpetuating a system where some will be oppressed by economic boundaries and not able to better themselves but must depend on others?

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(c) Adron 11/25/16

THE TRUE DOOR, A POEM ABOUT THE DEATH NAILS

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The True Door,
A Poem About The Death Nails

We yank, and yank and yank,
All on the wrong door
And vent our ire
Against its locks.
We try saws
To cut our own
Way
Through those walls
That bar us
From the place of light
And hope.
But near
Is the ready door,
Held open by The Keeper
With the scarred hands
Of its deadly
Construction;
For He-Who-Made-Entry
Always was the
Open Door.*



(c) Adron Dozat

*"Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures." John 10:9.

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(c) Adron 10/18/16

THE KEPT ONES, A POEM OF ROOTBOUND JUSTIFICATIONS

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The Kept Ones,
A Poem Of Rootbound Justifications

Do trees in the forest
Know of their brothers
Rootbound in clay pots-
Captive by civic design?
Do they mourn their loss
To the woods?
Would saplings fight to rescue
The ones planted
In concrete street corners?
Do birch and fir consider
The wild less of a home
Without brother elms and oaks-
Who never know the meaning
Of their woodland place?
Do oaks feel
Helpless and immobile
At the injustice
To trees in city boulevards
Subjected to the insults
Of canine attention?
Would we condemn them
If they did?
If we were oaks and birch
Would we rescue our brothers
From thirst, solitude, abuse, and neglect?
Or just ask,
"Am I my brother's keeper?"*
And blame our roots.

(c) Adron Dozat

*Genesis 4:9

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(c) Adron 10/10/16

EVERY MONTH, A POEM OF ACCOUNTING ANNOTATION

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Every Month,
A Poem Of Accounting Annotation

The calendar,
Like a picture of our place in time,
Hangs in silence
On a thumbtack in the wallboard.
We look at the dates
Wondering
What secrets are hidden
In those numbers of tomorrows
Which stretch like clotheslines
Where we hang the memories
Of the near past
As they grow sweet
Like fruit in the summer sun.
We mar the even squares
With the fading ink
Of our dreams and
Agendas for each today.
When all the days are drained
We tear off the month's page
And throw it away,
Or save it in a drawer
Intending
To revisit it at a later time,
But they become forgotten
Until after the memorial service
And the kids empty the drawer
To find our monthly
Receipt of how we spent our days
On our way
To eternity.


(c) Adron Dozat

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I do not like to write poems that are unhappy. I would rather write about hope and faith in God's love but our mortality is a fact and each day draws us closer to our personal end. It is my purpose in this poem to remind us that time moves on and to challenge us to consider what we do with the days we are given.

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(c) Adron 8/14/16

SHARP WATER, A POEM ABOUT THE HOPE FOR TRANSLATION

Sharp Water, A Poem About The Hope For Translation

Like the sharp water
That flows beneath the ice
There is a silence we all know;
It is
Unanswered,
Spoken in eye contact,
Whispered in a touch.
It waits for the songs
That rise before dawn.
It is a mute voice
We were not meant to possess.
We
Were forged to be singers,
A chorus that conquers
Darkness;
But now we mutter
Our own denial
And wait in the gloom,
Listening
For him who is

The word of life*
To melt our ice
That we may sing.

*"Simon Peter answered him, "Lord to whom should we go? You have the words of eternal life." John 6:68.

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(c) Adron 8/7/16

THE CALL, A POEM OF HIS VOICE

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The Call,
A Poem Of His Voice


We once heard His voice
With the ears of our hearts-
Like a morning whisper.
We left that communion
For a land
Foreign to our souls,
Yet His voice calls
From far away
To draw us from our wilderness
And wild woods.
Not knowing we are lost
And blind
We think darkness is normal
And our shackles belong.
But He
Is whispering
Through the racket of our lives;
While we run and flee
The sunny lands
That we seek.
Now we slop our way
Through dark swamps
Looking for lights,
And
Chasing the echoes
Of our own thoughts
As if they were
The mirage of His voice.
Still,
The lips that breathed life
Speaks your name,
He is saying, "Come."


(c) Adron Dozat


"Come unto me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.

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(c) Adron 7/30/16

EULOGY FOR THE SLAYER OF DRAGONS, A POEM OF MYTHICAL TANGLED TRUTH

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Eulogy For The Slayer of Dragons
A Poem of Mythical Tangled Truth

The flaming arrow burned a low arc
Through the dark blue,
The sail embraced it with a sigh
As the sun set below the guiding star.
The ship took the flame
Over the darkening horizon
And carried her body
To the halls where heroes sit
At their golden feast.
Once, she was a
A sheltered princess
Guarded by nobles and knights
Too gentle to see blood
Raised
For the virgin sacrifice.
Submissive tears stained her gown
Of white silk
As she went with head held high
To appease the hell-hearted dragon.
Stepping over black burned bones
And the armor of the valiant slain
She found
The dragon
Had died of old age.
Singers told only how
She returned wearing black steel
A sword in hand
Dragging its head behind her,
And songs gave birth
To the legend of
An ancient girl queen,
The Dragonslayer-
Now a goddess.


(c) Adron Dozat

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© Adron 7/23/16

DECLARATION OF THE STAR CHILD, A POEM ABOUT CONVENTIONAL SOCIAL SUBTRACTION

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Declaration Of The Star Child,
A Poem About Conventional Social Subtraction


From her man-made heaven
Of glass and shadow
She wondered
If she had gotten all she wanted.
She toiled and labored
Earning and gathering
Until she became a property
She did not own,
And
She was spent
To fill another's bank account.
Their words confused
The need to have
With the need to be,
So she left the zodiac
In its dark firmament
To protest broken economies
As
She screamed into the night
"I don't need
You to tell me
What I need,
And
I will not be measured
By my possessions
But by the God I serve."
Her fame withered like
A pale predawn mist;
But she got out
And rescued herself
When she went.



(C) Adron Dozat

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(c) Adron 7/5/16